Incomplete
by Lil' Ass Kicker
Summary: Princess Emma has grown up with her friend Killian since she was seven years old, she never expected to fall for him and lose him as soon as she finally has him, but the war comes first.


**I own nothing from OUAT, I don't own the cast, crew, plots, characters, and wish I did but I do not. All I own is this idea of mine I cooked up last night after seeing some old couple walking down the street holding hands and I just thought "Oh my God, they were young once, they have a love story that no one knows and it's more romantic than the crap you here nowadays." And so I decided to write this and I hope it goes swimmingly!**

 **Incomplete**

 **3** **rd** **Person**

 _Enchanted Forest, 1930_

Emma Swan, only six years old and already too wise for her young age, walks down the cobbled streets of her kingdom, receiving many bows from the people as they spot their crowned Princess near them. Her guards keep near her, making sure that she and her parents are always securely protected, something she usually dislikes as she craves adventure, but the small area of the kingdom they're visiting fills her with fear so the guards are a welcome sight.

Her mother had gotten her a pair of handmade shoes for her birthday, however, they had accidentally been sent to a workhouse in the more dangerous part of town that no one would ever venture near. It was where the murders happened most frequently. Emma's not stupid, she knows the world isn't bright and filled with daisies everywhere, so when she was told this place existed nearby her nose immediately twitched with excitement and she had hidden in her parent's carriage until they were too far from the castle to turn back.

So here she was, at least seven armed guards surrounding her all trembling in fear, while the small six years old was far more excited than one should be.

Following the guards, Emma and her parents are lead to a workhouse, one that has a woman outside of it crying over how much pain she's in, but before they can ask they're ushered into the place.

At first, the young Princess is shocked by how small the workhouse is, because, for the number of workers, it's tiny, with children squished into one area at the back and women to the other side, which makes Emma wonder where all the men are.

Secondly, Emma's disgust of the place only becomes more apparent when she sees her Uncle James and is reminded that this place belongs to him, it's his fault these people have such awful lives at work, but her mother reminds her in a whisper that these people are criminals and deserve it. But she asks herself, _how can children be criminals?_

Walking down a small stairwell to be in the children's section only succeeds in making Emma sadder, she's not scared, she knows if they try anything they'll be killed, and that scares them, not her. She's sad because these children look so hopeful at the sight of her like she'll play with them, like she's a friend, and in a strange way she wishes she could be.

However, a guard spots a little boy boxing her shoes up and she moves away from the little girl she was staring at because she was making a doll Emma liked.

The boy is small, skinny like he's not seen food in days, with dark brown hair that looks like it needs a wash, falling in front of his face, as it needs cutting. His arms are so skinny it makes Emma wonder if he can even lift the small pair of shoes, with bruises and blisters from burns going up, which Emma winces at.

He seems slightly excited when he sees her, much like the children thinking she wants to play, but sees her attention is to the shoes so he casts his eyes downwards, but doesn't look as surprised or heartbroken as the other children did, and Emma wonders if he's used to it, used to not being enough and being overlooked, and it breaks Emma's heart into pieces.

In fact, it makes her so upset that she looks up at him, and searches his face as he concentrates on fixing up the box to look nice for her, his tongue poking through his teeth, not seeming bothered by the bruise forming under his left eye or the dirt that's been there for days.

To her shock and disgust, one of her guards pushes the boy away, and when he can't find anything to grasp onto he falls on the ground, making Emma push past her guards and kneel by him, checking to see if he's okay, but her mother stops her, holding her arm and pulling her up gently. "Emma, sweetie, careful."

Emma glares a little at her mother; her nostrils flaring in anger, this little boy couldn't hold her without breaking a bone, which means she's not scared. "Mama! I want to check he's okay, the guard don't do that!" She exclaims, her six-year-old mind not making any sense to anyone else as she sits by the boy again. "Mr. You okay?"

The young boy looks up at her, nodding mutely, obviously terrified to say anything, but Emma looks pointedly at him and he swallows. "I-I-I'm sorry, Princess Emma." He stutters out and offers her his hand. "K-K-Killian Jones, not Mr." He introduces himself shyly, and Emma smiles, taking his hand and shaking it.

"Just Emma, Mr. Jones." She giggles and stands up, pulling him up with her.

* * *

A few weeks later, after Emma has broken in her shoes and she's comfortable enough to go out in them, she goes with her guards, on her own this time, to the fields by the workhouse where no one ever goes, no one else is allowed but her, until today.

She had begged her mother to let her see that young boy again, and after some research, they'd found where the Killian boy she met lived. For her birthday, her seventh birthday, in fact, she'd asked to meet him again, and so they'd set up for him to meet her in the field of Middlemist flowers and have a picnic.

She waits for him for five minutes before the young boy is in her sights, two guards at his side, both armed in case the small boy does anything, but he looks too terrified to even speak let alone harm her, in fact to Emma he looks close to wetting himself.

In his hands, Killian holds an old and worn copy of a book, _The Ugly Duckling,_ which is obviously not new, and he seems ashamed when he offers it, but she accepts it with glee, it was a better present than anyone else has ever given her.

The few hours she spends with him on the field are the most fun she's had in her short life. She doesn't get to play usually, she isn't allowed to simply be a child, but he runs around and they play chase and they eat far too much, put at the end of their day he offers her a flower he picked, which she tucks away in the book he gave her for her birthday.

She goes home later that day with a smile on her face, the book in her hands proudly, and she's so excited to read it she refuses to allow her parents anywhere near it, and spends the night reading it, careful not to harm her flower.

The day, after spending some of her night thinking about it, Emma goes to her parents at breakfast, laying her hands on the table, with a firm look on her face. "Mama, I want you to put Killian at the castle." She states, leaving no room for argument, which makes her parents chuckle.

"We had a feeling you'd say that, pumpkin." David smirks, and pushes a paper at her, where the only words she recognized were 'work', 'Killian Jones', 'stable boy' and 'castle'.

As soon as Emma realizes what the document means, the small seven-year-old leaps from her chair gleefully, hugging her father in joy. "Really? Killian can come here?" And he nods with a smile.

What her father doesn't tell her is that Killian's parents were selling her best friend like some used toy that they had played with but no longer found enjoyment in. What her father also doesn't tell her is that Killian was sat on a hard, wooden surface in a cage like an animal, being called the 'princesses play thing' with shackles on his feet, sobbing into his knees while his mother whispered foul, unkind words about how worthless and useless he was.

What her father will never tell her is that it's over the book her gave her. _The Ugly Duckling._ The only book he owned and the one he taught himself to read from on his own. He was being ridiculed for only knowing how to read one small book and sold to 'repay his parents' for a book he didn't even receive from them.

* * *

Killian begins working as a stable boy at the castle when he's just eight years old, and he's paid fairly, placed with a kind and richer family who would love him, courtesy of Emma's parents' fondness. That and they loved seeing Emma's happy expression every day as she practically skipped off to go see her friend.

Snow was convinced that the two small children would end up together and didn't care at all if Killian slacked a little on his duties, which he only did once and then worked through all the night so the parents wouldn't be mad at him.

They had Killian adopted by King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, who were more than happy to take the young boy, only young themselves at nineteen and eighteen years, not ready to have a baby, so the idea of having Killian as their heir and the fact he believed so strictly in 'good form' that he was never any trouble, they'd been more than happy to have him in their family.

Killian spent every day at the castle and did work, despite the fact his parents insisted he didn't need to, but Killian's main reasoning was to see his best friend, and often David would take them to go look at the ships, which Killian adored.

In fact, he adored it so much that he took up a role in the Navy, at first only being the one who cleaned the ship when it was in port, but a kind sailor named Liam taught him all he needed to know and he was more than happy to learn. Killian claimed Liam was like the brother he never had, and Emma was more than happy to play around on a ship with him as children.

As they grew up, they only grew closer, and Killian's once skinny and breakable frame became all muscle yet Emma always thought he had just the right amount of 'meat' (as Granny Lucas called it) on him to make him even more attractive. Whenever Emma got those thoughts she'd banish them away, blushing until she thought of something else.

She began getting those thoughts when she was fourteen and was desperate to talk to someone about it, but her best friend was him and she could hardly tell him that.

Her mother taught her about the birds and the bees, of course, she's not naïve, and she knew it was just her 'fancying him' or so her friend would call it.

She knows why she fancies him, it's obvious. It's his face for starters, she knows looks aren't everything but _hell_ did they matter sometimes. His once cute and adorable baby face had grown into a jawline to cut fine cheeses, and his eyes only got impossibly brighter, which complimented his long, dark lashes. His smile too, his smile was everything to her, whenever he smiled she actually felt giddy, it was perfect. Just the right amount of teeth and tongue, which were both perfect too, and he never let it linger too long to seem overly cocky, always kind, grateful.

That's another reason she fancies him, his kindness, how sweet and thoughtful she is, everything about his personality she adored. Just the week before she started getting these thoughts they had been in the kingdom shopping for Mothers Day gifts (late because they're oh so busy doing work…or learning how to sail and swordfight) when he'd given a little homeless girl some money, and taken her with them to a small café to give her some food, before helping find her parents and gave them some money to have a Sunday dinner.

But that's what killed her… The word _friend_ was like a knife in her back every time she thought of it, Killian Jones was just her friend, that's all he saw her as, or so she thought.

However, what she doesn't know, yet everyone else on the earth seems to, is that Killian Jones is totally, utterly, unmistakably and absolutely in love with her.

He loved her eyes, first and foremost, which sounds cliché because it is. He loves how her eyes light up when they're on the open sea, so he knows he's not boring her with his obsession, he loves how they widened at the sight of him in his Naval uniform for the first time and how her eyes brightened up when they were messing around and he'd faked being her naval husband back from war; letting her wear his hat and carrying her bridal style around the castle.

That's also why he loves her; he loves how silly she can be. Most women, because Emma is a young woman now as his father reminds him, are mainly obsessed with dresses and royal ladies are fascinated with finding good boyfriends and husbands, and they'd never get a spec of dust on them let alone grass or dirt.

His Emma is different, Emma adores learning to sword fight and couldn't care less about a rip in her dress, and in fact, she adores having them because she can show her father to prove she's been learning. Emma loves going to the field of Middlemist flowers and rolling around in the grass just for the heck of being stupid and silly, which they aren't allowed to do except if they're together.

Killian adores her, adores being with her, even during boring council meetings where they make funny faces at each other to get through it, much like a pair of five-year-olds would, giggling under their breath and sharing notes under the table if they were sat next to each other.

Emma is no lady, no, Emma's just his Emma, and that means more to him than anything on earth.

Arthur tells him to ask for David's permission to court her, and he finds out that his father has a bet on who would ask first, with Snow betting Emma will get tired and ask and his father having faith in him and saying he will.

However, Liam, his friend in the Navy who he trusts like a brother, and he promises one day they'll sail together, tells him that he's a 'right idiot' and should just kiss her randomly, and if she kisses back to ask her father for permission but if she doesn't, pretend it's a random holiday when you have to kiss the nearest person.

He dismisses that, knowing his luck she'd kiss someone else thinking she was meant to and they'd fall in love and get married, most likely have adorable children when Killian would die alone.

He's an angsty teenager, get over it.

But he's a teenager in love, and he's determined to tell her. One day.

* * *

Emma Swan is humming to herself, sat on the ship deck (Liam's ship, The Jewel of The Realm) with her head resting on Killian's lap as he reads a Shakespeare play to her, making her giggle at his little comments and when he does the voices. It would be perfect for a couple, one that is utterly in love, serene and peaceful, watching people walk past and exchanging pleasantries.

Except they're not a couple, they're not courting or betrothed and neither even knows of the other's love for them.

His lovely Emma sighs from his lap, a little frown on her face, wrinkling her nose in the way he loves, the fifteen-year-old obviously unhappy, so he shuts up and places his book down. "Swan, is everything alright?" He questions softly, his hand combing her hair gently, making her preen a little, obviously enjoying it before she remembers herself and sits up.

"Killian," She starts, thinking about what she'll say and how she'll say it, but as always, just like herself, she blurts it out. "Do you not love me?

His eyes nearly bug out of his head and he looks shocked, sitting up properly to look at her, his eyes showing hurt and confusion. "I…H-How? What do you mean? I apologize, I don't quite understand what you mean, Swan…" He trails off, his hand scratching the back of his neck, embarrassed that he doesn't understand and she softens.

Biting her lip, Emma takes his hand gently. "Killian, it's no secret that you're my best friend." She says softly, and he gets a small wrinkle in his brow, which her thumb reaches out to stroke away. "It's also no secret that I love you, which I make obvious at every given opportunity yet you either ignore it or are very oblivious for an observant man." She bites her lip, chewing it softly, watching his facial expressions.

He looks terribly confused, then elated, possibly slightly offended, before spluttering. "Obvious?" He questions with a slight squeak in his tone. "What have you been doing that's obvious?"

Rolling her eyes, she laughs softly despite herself, something only he can make her do, giggle when she wants to cry. "I go sailing, we play around in council meetings, I go with you for ice cream every Monday when we come back from our swordsmanship training, my seamstress is convinced I'm with child because of those ice creams." She points out, and Killian can't help his snort of laughter. "But yet you don't seem to realize t-"

He cuts her off by grabbing her face gently and pulling her in for a feather-light kiss, blushing, and looks in her eyes for a moment after. "I love you too." He whispers, biting his lip.

Just like he'd hoped, his love's eyes light up and she kisses him again, pushing him onto the deck by accident, giggling softly. "Well, that's good because I had a bit of a speech planned out." She kisses his cheek, laying on him, not caring who sees as she rests her chin on his chest, stroking his collarbone. She's happy, undeniably happy, having the man she adores with her, knowing he loves her too and-

Her face falls a little and she sits up, with his smile fading too as they both come to the same conclusion. They can't be together. She's not allowed to be with someone without royal title or rank, Killian has neither, it's a law. He may be an heir to a throne one day, but that's only providing his parents have no biological children.

It breaks her heart, and she knows it shows on her face by the way he cups her cheek tenderly like tending to a wounded animal, and her wonderful love has hope in his eyes as he whispers soothingly, "One day, Emma, I'll have a rank, I'll be in the Navy, I'll get there, then we can be together."

At first, for the first three weeks, since they're admissions, followed by stolen kisses in secret and hand holding during sailing, she believes his words. He's sixteen; he can apply for the Navy in a matter of months when he finishes learning from Liam. Liam's a Captain, surely would help him in getting a rank if it meant Killian could be with her, he's rooted for them since day one of meeting them.

However, at the end of those three weeks, her mother is speaking of marriages and princes who are available as she does her hair, unaware that Emma is planning on going with Killian for lunch as a courtship-type-thing.

"I hear King Francis is available." Her mother comments softly. "He's young, handsome, and you were friends and children weren't you?" Emma nods, they were good friends, and she knows Francis is single because they converse over monthly letters, however, she also knows his attention is otherwise occupied by a young lady, so she has no hopes of him marrying her.

"Mother, King Francis and I are friends, but truly nothing more," Emma states softly, looking down at her nails. "His love is for another anyway, and I think within the year I'll be attending his wedding to her, not me."

Snow seems to accept this, but thinks still, and smiles. "Prince Neal is another option." She wrinkles her nose for that one, and Emma knows why.

"No, I dislike his father, and he was a rude little boy, he once pushed Killian in the mud." She says softly and her mother nods in understanding, if you hurt Killian then you have no hopes with Emma.

"Okay, well, Eric and Ariel's son-"

"Is not my type in any way, shape or form, I'm sorry." She shrugs and her mother frowns, looking displeased, and Emma sighs. "I'm sorry, I know I'm nearing my sixteenth year and I should be thinking of making matches and politics and things I truly care nothing for, but all I wish to do is…be Emma. Is that so wrong?"

Snow looks guilty and nods slowly, stroking her daughter's arm. "I'm sorry, but the kingdom has been sad recently since there was a fire that destroyed our croplands. A wedding would help them all, and a match with a man who has stock would be great."

Emma closes her eyes, frowning, biting her lip for a moment. "You promised I could marry for love." She says softly. "You promised! What? Are you breaking that promise now?"

"No! Emma, I'm sorry, I just…Forget it, honey, I…I'm sorry, you know you can always marry for love, but rules apply that I can't break, title and rank are needed for you to marry anyone, I was just trying to push you to someone you are friends with-"

"Well don't," Emma states firmly, making her mother recoil, and regrets being so rude, but she has to get it through her skull. "I will choose who I marry based on what I want and what I think of them, I will not be pushed into a marriage I don't want! Are we understood?"

Emma refuses to marry anyone but Killian and she's going to make damn well sure people know that.

* * *

Two years is how long it takes before Killian finally even mentions marriage to her, and it's only to mention how her friend Prince August has intentions to marry Tink, their friend, and her heart sinks.

Over the past two years, August has been fake courting Emma so that he could be with the maid Tink and Emma could be with Killian and no one would raise suspicions. So the news that their ruse is ending fills Emma with dread because although Killian has made it to be a successful Lieutenant, she worries that the council won't see it as a high enough rank.

They've spoken of marriage about friends, and she has attended a few over the duration of their courtship, however, neither of them has ever felt the need to do more than speak of others.

Emma worries when after Killian acts distant, not like his usual self, wearier of her and always jittery. She learns why when she's speaking to her mother about August wanting to marry another. Apparently, there have been a series of attacks over water, and most naval officers who go never return, something about land and fortune, things Emma doesn't care about but her kingdom is involved in aiding another.

She learns that the men who leave are eighteen and that most men are required to go, and her mind goes into panic. Killian's eighteen, he's a Lieutenant in the Navy, was he being shipped off and he didn't know how to tell her? Is that why he suddenly mentioned marriage? To throw her off the scent and make her think everything was okay? What did Killian pull away from her before?

It's not until three weeks later, when her eighteenth birthday is a mere two days away, that she learns anything. Realizing she'll have to marry someone, she has no choice when she's eighteen, she has to find someone and be married before the age of twenty-one, preferably with an heir or one on the way. So that's why she mentions it to him.

They're lying on the Captains bed that Liam lets them stay in when it's not being used, to be in private, otherwise everyone would know and there would be rumors flying when she asks. She has her hands laying on his shirt clad chest, stroking smooth circles, his hand going through her long blonde locks that he loves so much, and her eyes trail over his ring finger, biting her lip. "Will we ever marry?" She asks quietly, shyly, fearing a rejection.

Glancing at her, Killian looks angry, his hand stilling in his hair. "Which one of those gits told you? I asked them to keep it a secret for one week, do they have no-"

"Whoa," Emma sits up, picking at a loose thread in her summer dress, confused. "Tell me what?" She asks softly and the blood drains from his face. "Killian, were you going to propose to me?" She asks in a whisper, nibbling her bottom lip with a blush.

He thinks about lying, wanting to keep it a surprise, but her hopeful and excited look is too beautiful to lose, so he nods, leaning up and pulling a chain off his neck with a ring on it, sitting up and looking at her nervously. "It's not much, I saved up for nearly ten months to get you the perfect ring but I couldn't get enough for something regal or-"

Emma silences him with a kiss, tugging him closer, smiling wide. "It's perfect." She whispers, stroking his cheek, ridding him of all of those stupid worries he has about not being able to afford enough, or just being enough himself. He never has been enough for anyone else but her, and even after ten years he still can't get it around his head that this woman doesn't care about riches, she loves him. He's her Killian Jones, her sailor from the wrong side of town who built his life up to be better. "I love it."

The smile on his face only solidifies her decision that she wants to marry him, so she holds out her finger and he slips the ring on after he takes it off the chain, smiling wider if possible until his cheeks hurt.

"Marry me today," Emma whispers, swallowing her happy tears. "Marry me before anyone can tell us no or make us have a lavish wedding or anything." She giggles. "Will you?"

Killian chuckles softly and pulls her closer. "That's my question to ask isn't it?"

After a few seconds of staring into each other's eyes, it's decided, they're getting married that day and no one and nothing is changing that.

In fact, it's as they're practically running off the ship to find Liam to marry them that they bump into the very man. "Liam, you're a Captain, and we need to get married…Will you marry us?" Killian asks softly before frowning, seeing the look on Liam's face, taking the envelope from his hands.

Emma's confused, seeing that it has a stamp from a war office, watching Killian as he reads it aloud. "Mr. Jones, we regret to inform you that tomorrow morning you'll be shipped off to war with your team, we need every officer out there."

The news settles in for a few seconds and Emma realizes what it means, he's leaving her to go to a death sentence the next day and there's not a thing they can do to change it, but she can give him a reason to stay. With a look, she shows him the question in her eyes, before looking down at her ring, and Killian presses a kiss to the side of her head for a long moment before turning to Liam. "Will you marry us, Liam?"

Within two hours she's stood on the Jewel's deck, some of the crew aboard as witnesses to their union, something they need to have, and she's in a white dress a sailor's wife loaned her. Minutes later they're slipping rings on each other's fingers from shops in town they'd grabbed quickly, being pronounced husband and wife.

Their kiss is just as alive as the fear settling in her belly over losing her husband the day she finally has him for sure.

* * *

Killian claims he wanted to take her to Camelot to see the kingdom they would both rule if he takes over since he's seen so much of hers, however, they have no time and they don't want news getting out of their marriage getting out yet, so they have to settle for a room at an inn by the docks.

He's downstairs paying for their room for the night, Emma having told August to tell her parents she was with Killian that night sailing before he had to leave, while she's stood by the window, waiting.

Her husband, _that felt weird to say_ , had promised her that nothing had to happen despite their marriage if she doesn't want it, and she questions how well he truly knows her to think she doesn't want this night. She's only waited two years for this and there's not a shot in hell she's letting it go.

She's in a silk nightie that a sailor's wife gave to her as a gift which flows down to her ankles and only lets her feet poke out, it has spaghetti straps so her shoulders and arms are fully bare and it doesn't have a back until it reaches her tailbone where it then finally covers her again. It's beautiful and she'd love to have more like it, as she does feel pretty in it, but as a princess, it's usually long sleeves and tightly done up backs.

Her hair is down, the way she knows Killian loves it, flowing down her back in silky strands of blonde, shining in the moonlight, reaching all the way down to the top of her ribs before coming to a graceful end in small waves like the ocean.

Just the thought of the ocean makes her feel sick to her stomach, the thought of Killian being out there in the great unknown, possibly not to return, it makes her tear up until she reminds herself of no tears, she can't, not on her wedding night. She doesn't want Killian to walk in a crying wife and think she regrets this, she'll never regret him.

The sound of the waves hitting the docks calms her, which is strange considering that was what made her feel ill, and it's not long before Killian's walking into their room, his jaw dropping as he catches sight of her. "Swan-"

Her head snaps to him and she hides her nervous smile, blushing. "Jones." She corrects, biting her lip, and she comes away from the wall, walking to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "One of your sailor's wives said this might have that effect on you." She giggles softly to herself, taking in his awestruck look.

"You know we-we don't have t-t-to do a-anything." He stutters out, staring at her, unable to believe his luck that he's found himself the most perfect woman on earth. "If you wish, we can just sleep, I honestly will take my wife in any way she wants, I love you too much to even think about pressuring-"

Emma kisses him gently to shut him up, pulling away after a few moments, and nuzzles his jaw gently, pulling him closer with a hum. "Well, Mrs. Jones has been waiting for a very long time for this." She whispers softly, pressing her silk clad body against his. "Got any qualms sailor?"

"Not bloody one." He breathes out, pulling her in for another kiss.

Within a few minutes, her beloved chemise is on the floor along with all of his uniform, with her husband trailing kisses down her neck, making her hum and giggle and smile more than she ever has, before the hums turn into moans and calling his name.

His kisses on her thighs left a burn from his beard but she couldn't care less, there are love marks all up her neck, each made with love and tenderness, but she's only focused on making sure her husband is given as much love as he's giving her in their time together.

There are whispers of love and care and devotion, each punctuated with kisses or moans, becoming memories of their night.

As a teenager, she was told that her first time would be quick, rough and not at all pleasurable by her maids, each trying to scare her by telling her of their own husbands chasing their own release and leaving their wives unsatisfied, but Emma's never had that worry with Killian. He was the same as her, never having been with anyone, and she knows he had been reading books on how to make her happy in that nature after a year of courting, so she knows he'd never leave her like those women were.

After, as she's panting into the hair on his chest, catching her breath after hours of love and care from him and vice versa, her hand trails over her stomach and she glances up at him reaching up to kiss his cheek and strokes his sweaty hair from his face, giggling at his look of pure bliss. "You know something?" She whispers, and he looks at her with a smile.

"I know many things." He kisses her gently, humming. "But go on."

She thinks, stroking a pattern into his chest, fighting her smile, and bites her lip. "When you come back, there may be two of us waiting." She whispers, wondering what he thinks of that, knowing it'll settle in his brain after a moment.

They've both always wanted a big family, and a big family has always been a topic of conversation for them, even as young children it was something they discussed, even in passing or a childish question that led to a full-blown conversation.

Growing up an only child was lonely, sad and quite depriving. All Emma ever wanted was another child to play with, which she got with Killian, and her parents didn't want more children so she was always bored at home, never having anything to do until she met her now husband. She doesn't know what it is, maybe it's a maternal instinct, or possibly just longing when she sees a child and its mother walking down the street. She wants that, a big family, a loving husband, that's all she asks for, and with Killian, she knows she has both.

Killian grew up in a poor street, a poor neighborhood and an area in which he'll never go back to, where he saw plenty of abused children like himself in desperate need of love, care, money, something to get them through the night. Maybe that's why he wants a family, to keep them safe, to know that at least he can protect his, to show that he's capable of loving a child and being a good father, give their children everything he never had. Once he even claimed he would have three children and no less, to which Emma had scoffed at, but now she can see it.

In her mind's eye, she can see Killian reading their child a bedtime story and tucking in the other while she might have an infant on her hip, or perhaps just pregnant, she can see it.

They both know that children are a big part of what they want and they won't settle for nothing, but Killian worries…he may not be coming back to start they're family, and then he's failed her.

However, he won't mention that worry, he won't scare her and make her cry, not tonight. "Maybe." He whispers with a smile, his hand slowly lying on her flat stomach. "If you're going to be there, take care of your mum while I'm gone okay?" He leans down and kisses her belly gently before pulling her in for a hug gently.

"I hope I am." She whispers. "That way I have a piece of you still here, and you have more than one reason to come home to me." She smiles softly, kissing him gently. "I love you, Killian Jones."

With a sad smile, he strokes her hair back gently. "I love you too, Emma Jones."

* * *

The next morning is one of the hardest mornings in her life, on the worst day that happened directly after one of the best days and nights she's ever had. Last night she'd never felt happier, curled up in his arms and talking about the family they're going to have when he's back, how many children and whether or not they'd live in the castle or in a normal home.

They didn't make any ultimate decisions, they couldn't until he was back and safe with her again, how could they? How could they make any decisions until he was holding her again, cuddled up in bed in the warmth?

Killian's arms holding her close, wrapped around her waist in a comforting embrace is the most she'll have until he's back with her, which hopefully won't be that long. She'd stop all the wars herself if it meant she could keep him, but unfortunately everyone has to play their part, and her stupid-but-amazing husband had to be doing the job where he was needed.

Her mother and father weren't there, luckily for her, as August had told them she'd want a private goodbye with her best friend, however, hadn't told them she had married said best friend, he left that out for her to tell them.

Other sailors make their way onto the ship and they know it's their cue to say goodbye, make it fast and painless, like ripping off a Band-Aid. Unfortunately, she screwed up that already by sobbing into his chest, not wanting him to leave.

"You can't go." She sobs, feeling Killian's arms tighten around her. "Y-You can't leave me! I need you h-here." She cries, clinging onto his chest. "W-We need to start our family and be married and enjoy life, you can't go to get killed, and I won't let you! You have to stay!" She holds him closer, sniffling.

Killian closes his eyes, pressing a long kiss to her head, swaying her slowly. "I'll be back soon, it's only a bit of war." He shrugs like it's nothing, kissing her gently. "I promise, love, within a few weeks I'll be back and making good on my promise to have our family, won't I?"

After a few minutes, he's letting her go, transferring her to the arms of August and Tink, having to turn away and go to the ship quickly, standing at the helm and waving to her as the ship leaves the dock.

Trying to break free from August's grip is no use, but she has to, she had to give him something before he left, so Emma digs her nails into Augusts palm and runs up to the ship when he's distracted, pulling out a book from the pocket of her dress and throwing it up to Killian, smiling when he catches it.

Looking at the small book, he seems confused, and she gestures for him to open it. When he does he can't help but smile wide to see a photo of her and him, taken on their wedding day and she'd obviously gotten someone to print it during the night for her. He places the photo in his breast pocket, near his heart.

He looks down again to see a letter, looking at Emma with a raised eyebrow, too far for her to hear anything, and she probably can't see him anymore, so he just rips open the letter and quickly reads it.

 _Killian,_

 _If you're reading this, it means you've left and I'm probably sobbing an ocean already, so I apologize about all the sobbing I did. Last night, well tonight technically but you're reading this on the ship...oh wow...this is hard. I've never written a letter to my husband going off to war while I'm home trying how to tell my parents I got married and could have a baby if all went well last night._

 _I hope it did, I hope that when you come back, because trust me you will or I'm coming for you, massively pregnant or not (hopefully yes), I hope I'll have a surprise bundle of joy, or rather I hope you never see this letter because I wouldn't have had to give it to you because you're with me sipping tea and telling my dad that I'm carrying a grandchild? Maybe…I'm not good at this._

 _Anyway, my friend told me something really cheesy I could do so here it is…if you turn the pages to the back of this book, there will be a small lace and paper made heart, the message inside is…all I can say for now._

 _Please write to me, I love you._

 _Emma (your wife, remember? The one you're coming home to?)_

Killian smiles at the letter, the awkwardness and not knowing what to say, never being good with words reminds him so much of her, everything about this screams Emma. His Emma. _God, he misses her and it hasn't been an hour._

He shakes himself out of it, turning to the back of the book and smiles at the heart she's obviously made for him, pulling it out and reading the message.

 _Killian,_

 _Now you have my heart. Keep it safe. Bring it home._

 _Emma._

Staring at the heart for a moment, Killian sniffles, wiping his eyes, nodding, and places it by her photo quickly along with her letter, all by his heart where she belongs, sighing, turning to look at the endless ocean, breathing heavily.

"I'll come home to you Emma."

* * *

 **I hope you all enjoyed, I have no clue how long I'm going to take for chapter 2, this is split into 4. :)**


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